Family
by Innocent Fox
Summary: As Grove Street's influence over San Andreas wanes, Carl Johnson and his brother Sweet make a choice that will either make them successful or will break them and those they know.
1. Cakewalk

**Family**

**Cakewalk**

_New Years Eve, 1997_

"What a fucking year this will be."

Carl took the beer from his brother, "Happy New Year bro." Sweet raised his green bottle and took a long swig.

"We getting too old for this man...we gonna have to pass the torch sometime."

"Ain't one of your illegitimate kids about?" Sweet laughed and drank some more.

"Very funny asshole."

"Tell you what. How about we run the family from the inside, like businessmen?"

Carl arched his right eyebrow and ran his hand over his hair. "Haven't we been doing that since I got back?"

"Carl, that was five years ago fool. I mean, more from the sidelines, let the homies do the work and we get the pay and the benefits."

"Shit...I've been doing that since I joined."

Sweet laughed again, "You know what? We should do one last job together before we turn pass this torch. Get some personal funding before we get old?"

The younger Johnson brother put the beer down and held his head in his palms. He looked up at the picture of Kendl and his mother.

"Hell, why not? I guess one last hit couldn't hurt."

"Famous last words!"

"As long as it's planned okay Sweet? I don't know whether I actually agree or it's the alcohol."

As the night wore down after the celebrations, Carl lay in bed awake, Denise was stirring in her sleep and he knew the recent financial troubles the family were in weren't helping. By giving the family more breathing space he had put cut off some cash flow. He'd given Wu Zi Mu and the Da Nang Boys San Fierro whilst the Mafia families still fought over Venturas. Los Santos was held by Los Varrios Aztecas and of course, the Grove Street Families in alliance. He finally tried to get to sleep, putting those troubles to the back of his mind.

"Carl, yo Carl. Cesar and Kendl are here, wake up."

He woke up, Denise had gone to work and he felt ill.

"What time is it?" He rubbed his eyes.

"Twelve you lazy bastard."

"Fine, I'll be right down."

Sitting up and pulling open the drawers, he got his old jeans and a green Zip t-shirt out. Carl sluggishly headed downstairs only to be greeted by his niece, Penelope. He lifted her up in the air and held her in one arm.

"Penny!"

"Uncle Carl!"

He smiled at her, "Are you listening to your moms?"

She nodded, "How about your dad?"

"Uhuh." She grinned, missing a couple of teeth, she was only five.

Carl walked into the kitchen with her, "Cesar, how you been man?"

The Hispanic looked away from Sweet to greet him, "You know, little of this, little of that. Putting this little one through school is tough though."

"It won't get easier," he smiled. "Kendl at the front?"

Cesar nodded. "Sure, she's just having a cigarette amigo."

"Cool, Sweet, here you go." Sweet was caught off guard as Carl tried to give him Penny.

"Shi- I mean, shoot, look who we have here?"

As he made his way to the front door, he heard his brother talk to Cesar about the job they had in mind.

Carl sat next to his sister on the doorstep.

"That'll kill you sis."

"I know," Kendl took a drag and blew out the smoke.

"Don't you think you should stop for your daughter?"

"It's stressful enough Carl, what with money and Cesar's new car."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out about two hundred dollars.

"Here, should help out."

She held her hand up, "I know you can barely afford to give me that."

"Course I can, my money's just tied up in other projects. It'll be a'ight."

She sighed and took the money.

"You can't run this gang all your life Carl."

"You tell Cees the same thing?"

"He does other work."

"Like what? Killing drug pushers like us ain't gonna bring the money in."

"I'll have you know he got a job."

Carl looked surprised, "That right?"

"Yeah. He's training to be a truck driver."

"Cesar...is training to drive trucks? Like a redneck motherfucker?"

"It ain't like that. Good hours, shame the pay's a little off."

"Why I gave you the money ain't it? Look, I'm nearing thirty two years old and I act like a teen hanging around with these fools." He pointed to various family members with green on.

Kendl gave a half hearted laugh and took another drag. "Do something about it."

"Sweet and I might have a plan. One last job type of shit."

"Does this involve killing, robbing and generally kicking every shade out of everyone you see?"

"Prob'ly."

"Don't you even dare get Cesar involved, he just acts as figurehead of the Aztecas now, no way is he getting his ass hauled in jail or worse, ending up dead."

Carl shook his head. "Kendl, it's gonna be clean and simple. Promise."

She flicked the butt of the cigarette on to the curb, "The answer is no." Kendl walked back inside as Carl looked at his street. "Pfft," he said to himself, "Grove Street, home."

The next day was quick, Sweet talked Carl through a few ideas. He had even given Cesar a call.

"A'ight guys if we're gonna do this we need some thoughts on getting some green that will set us up for life."

Cesar pitched in first, "I'm interested, but how are we gon' do this if 5-0 gets involved? We get traced back round here, we're all fucked esé."

"Cees is right," Carl said, "If one of us gets caught or worse, they will shut one family down whilst the other struggles to make connections and get merchandise out. How much ground can we recover if the other gang is taken out? New gangs will be looking to capitalise on that shit."

"I have an idea for that," Sweet piqued the interest of both men, "We get the families to cause some disturbance, some low level shit that keeps the cops busy. We might get some heat but we've handled worse."

As they contemplated ideas, Carl pitched an ambitious one.

"Bank job."

"Huh?"

"Bank job, I've done that before, can't believe I'm gonna risk my ass again for a few hundred thousand though."

Cesar rubbed his hands together, his bracelet connecting with skin that made a slight rattle. "We should pick a day the Securicars come to drop off the cash. Take the money and get the hell outta Dodge."

"Good idea Cees." Sweet scribbled on a piece of paper, "We just need to find out when, shouldn't be too hard."

"Scope out the area with the gangs and we can choose a date and time." Carl nodded at Cesar.

"Bank job it is then."

"Guns?" Sweet lowered his tone.

"All we have to give are handguns and tec-9's."

Carl simultaneously told Cesar the same thing.

"Emmet don't have shit and that old man gon' get his comeuppance any day soon."

"Woozie?" Carl exclaimed.

"Shit, you still in contact with that blind fool?" Cesar asked.

"Barely, see him every few months to take our pay from him, five minute conversations to avoid any police that might be watching. He's going grey now though." He grinned.

"Any heavy duty stuff will help. However we can get it." Sweet wrote more down.

"Blueprints as well." Carl said, thinking back.

"Los Santos bank has three floors man, clerks bottom floor, safe floor above, managers office at the top. None of that Venturas bullshit. We going to be in there, hold up some people and leave quietly as we can." Cesar pointed on the coffee table with each two words.

Carl had another idea, "Why don't we just hold the van up? Drive off with the cash?"

"Too open, more people have cellphones and even then we can't be wasting regular folk and cops just to cover our tracks, if we go in we can keep everyone relatively quiet, including the security bringing the money in." Sweet started to look condescendingly at Carl.

"Just thinking of options..."

Sweet looked up from the paper, "We all agree this is the right idea?"

Cesar nodded, "What can go wrong eh esé? I just want to make sure my daughter doesn't end up without a father."

"I will guarantee that, it's gonna be a few months before we can pull this off. Plus, it wouldn't be entertaining without any gunfire," Sweet laughed. "Carl?"

"Huh?"

"You down for this?"

"Yeah man, it's pretty hasty, even for us though."

"Exactly man," the two leaders laughed as Carl got up to get a few beers, wondering how this was about to go down.


	2. Verona

**Verona**

_13th January 1997_

Cesar slouched against the phone booth, listening to the words of Wu Zi Mu.

"Man, I already told you that we need them in at least two weeks, we wanna get everything done as fast as we can."

He stood intently this time, rolling his eyes and breathing a short peeved breath.

"All right, I'll tell him."

"So?" Carl asked.

"Wu says he isn't getting any M16's until next month, as for nine mills...well we can go now for them."

"He realises it takes two hours to get there by car, right?"

"You know him Carl, he'll expect you to be there by plane."

Carl scraped his right foot across some sand. "We can go, but I've got my money in other places at the moment."

"What in?"

"Gang stuff."

"What type of gang stuff?" Cesar pressured him, "I need some figures, or some indication of how much you have."

He didn't specify, detracting the subject, "I have about ten grand left."

"Ten grand? What the fuck have you been spending it on esé?"

"800 large don't last you forever man."

"It should last longer than five years if you're 'investing' cholo!"

"I have no priorities unlike you Cesar, I thought about Kendl and Penny as soon as Sweet thought of this crazy idea. I can blow my money on clothes and cars if I want."

The Hispanic man looked at Carl, his head lowered slightly before being bright back up.

"Look, I'm sorry Carl but you gotta be better with that green, who knows what the future will bring. You're still young and you've got your family and Denise."

"Not young enough..." Carl hung on those words.

Sweet pulled up just on time, his battered sedan sounded out a honk, "Yo! Are we leaving or what?"

The two men got in the car, Carl sat on the back seat, pondering on his future.

Cesar gestured to the interstate, "We're going to San Fierro Seany Boy!"

"What for?"

"Woozie got some nines and some type of SMG."

"If you want to. Carl?"

Carl was too busy looking in a shop window. "Yeah?"

"San Fierro okay big boss?"

He laughed, "Sure. Be good to see that old bastard."

As the time passed, Carl looked at Mount Chilliad reflecting over his window. He could see a bright green hang-glider reach the clouds before dipping quickly, rising at the right moment to eclipse the sun. A banner hung nearby; '14th Annual Chilliad Challenge.' Carl competed once but lost at the last minute due to another couple of cyclists colliding commencing in his own crippling. It had been raining that year, it seemed so much better on this day, the event it claimed to be.

"You day-dreaming back there homie?" Cesar had called.

Carl suddenly looked away from the hand-glider. "Sorta."

"It's okay, soon be at Easter Basin and then we can meet him."

Sweet chipped in, "Yeah and the rest of the Mountain Cloud Boys. You packing?"

Cesar pulled out a glock and Carl took out a small pistol adding, "We won't need 'em Sweet."

"Probably, but you gotta wonder sometimes with these fools, them sneaky Chinese motherfuckers."

"Dude, they from Hong Kong I think."

"Ain't that the same? But whatever man, they'd still slit your throat if you give 'em a funny look."

Cesar pointed out the Basin and they cruised to the airport parking garages. "Since when were these under new construction? I was only here a couple of days ago."

Sweet cursed, then said, "I don't see no maintenance trucks."

"They're letting those cars through man, go for it." Cesar pointed again, rapidly.

"A'ight."

A couple of men in luminous vests stopped the car. "Uh, 'sir's'," the man used the term loosely, "you have to turn around. See this area is closed off."

"I didn't see you stopping those other cars." Sweet snapped.

"Where exactly are you headed?"

"None of your damn business, let us through."

"Can't do that I'm afraid sir."

"What do you mean?"

"Er, I mean you have to go to the basement level, the other floors are full."

"Fine."

Sweet took a right and curved closer into the bottom parking garage.

Carl was wary, "Sweet, you see his tattoos? He was no worker."

"Who knows man, he might be living clean now? Unlike us. I just want to get this over with."

The Greenwood stopped in a close space, only a few cars perpetuating the area. "See?" Sweet said. "We here." Carl rang Woozie.

Ten minutes later, a black Sentinel arrived, parked opposite and flashed its headlights, confirming Woozie was here and the deal was on. He staggered out to be aided by a henchman from one of the back seats.

"I'm fine! Honestly!" He was still smiling and the three Los Santos natives made their own way towards him. Carl spoke first as the driver stood near him. Woozie's back up sat on the car.

"Carl Johnson. Such a time since I've heard your voice with such vigour, such need and desperation," he laughed, "How have you been my boy?"

"Well, obviously you know what I'm here for."

"The handguns and the uzi."

"Well, yeah. But I wanted to talk too."

"Go right ahead, I'm all ears." He stood with his cane, Carl looked at the jet black suit and tie, a red shirt and polished shoes. Wu Zi Mu was still taking care of himself but Carl noticed he had got greyer around the temples since they saw last.

"We're planning a hit...on a bank in LS. Gonna be tough, you okay with this?"

"You know I trust your judgement. I've had incompetent people cut into chunks but you've never been one for incompetence have you?"

"No sir, listen, I just want to know if it's cool with you about the guns. I don't want you or your men getting tied to this. If one of us doesn't make it, they'll no doubt look into it."

Woozie sighed, "Carl, you won't get caught because you never do, you're a good soldier and a trustworthy ally. I could never thank you enough for getting my beloved San Fierro back for me."

"I know you appreciate it. I'm just concerned about the empire we built. I just want to retire on the back of it and run the Grove and all of it from the sidelines, same as Sweet wants and same way you have."

He laughed again, "I would hardly call this the 'sidelines.' In all honesty though I only give you the shares to get the fresh air and some feeling of a heartbeat."

Carl turned his head to see his companions holding their hands behind their backs, clutching guns. He also noticed two silver Patriots drive speedily into the car park. "Wu..."

"Yes?"

"Get back to your cars...Everyone get ready!" Woozie's henchmen pulled him back as Carl pulled out his 9mm. He waited for the cars to try and take the shots. Sweet tugged his black t-shirt downwards as if preparing himself, handling his skull cap the same way. Cesar rolled over to the car, waiting just as patiently. Woozie's men pulled AK's from the trunk to the front, aiming down the sights. "Fuck, c'mon..." Carl whispered.

The two Patriots braked in the middle of the path they were on, in between two opposing pillars. The heavily tattooed man showed he was a gang member and stuck a pump action shotgun out of his window.

"Aryans man!" Carl yelled.

As if in slow motion, both sides took pot shots at one another, Carl kept missing the man with the shotgun by inches as tires were popped and the cars were chipped of paintwork and bodywork. Sweet could see the rivals get out of the other side of the vehicles. One Aryan aimed down his sight at the Mountain Cloud Boys, two assault rifle rounds caught their driver, killing him instantly. Wu Zi managed to pinpoint and the ensuing round collided him in the chest with the familiar Desert Eagle blast.

"Wu Zi!" Carl called over the noise. "You go, we got these fucks!"

"What?"

"Shit..." he said to himself. "Running out man." Cesar opened the back door of the Greenwood, pulling two full clips from a chair pocket. "Got your back man," he said."

One of Woozie's henchmen took two others out before he made his way to the drivers seat. Five Aryans took aim at him, Carl shot one in the shin, Sweet hit another in the heart. Cesar put his head up and fired twice towards the downed gangster, taking him out.

"Three left!" As Sweet shouted this, Woozie managed to smash a Patriot windshield as his last partner used an uzi to spray another, "You got him boss," the loyal Cloud member lied to him.

Knowing it was inevitable they would be massacred eventually, the Aryan with the shotgun was covered by his co-worker as he made his way towards a parked Landstalker. It wasn't long before that man's co-worker killed the last Mountain Cloud member in the car park. Carl ran over to Woozie in a rare moment of silence, "Wu, I'm gonna take cover here to protect you."

"Luck is on our side Carl," he said as the hidden Aryan man fired a shot towards him from afar, it struck Wu Zi Mu on the right side of his body, still making him collapse to the concrete with force. Sweet fired his Tech-9 at the opposer, felling the heavily tattooed man.

"Woozie!" Carl dropped his pistol and saw the colour draining from his face, "Carl...ow! Shit this hurts!" Carl took his hoodie off, putting pressure on the wound as he saw the last Aryan run away only to be chased down and kicked in by Sweet and Cesar, executed with the glock.

Cordite lingered in the air for what seemed with hours. A minute had passed before Sweet and Cesar helped Woozie into the back of the Greenwood, he cried out in pain as they placed him down.

"Those damned construction workers, it was them man, it was all them!"

"Carl, me and Cees will try and get rid of their bodies. Stay here." The pair ran towards each body and began piling them into the Patriots.

"Wu...hang on. We'll get you back to Chinatown...we'll get you patched up and...and you'll be fine and this will all be a bad memory. C'mon man, stay with me!" Carl could feel himself shaking with every word.

"Relax," Woozie spoke clearly to him. "It's a flesh wound."

"They might have got a lung...shit, shit, shit..."

Cesar got a canister of petrol from the trunk of the Mountain Cloud's car, happy to see it. They set fire to the Patriots and the Sentinel, including the bodies from each side. Flames erupted as an alarm went off. Sweet and Cesar ran back, the former calling, "Carl, quick, start the engine, we gotta go."

Doing as he was told, Cesar stayed with Woozie with the back, Sweet scanning for other hostiles. Police cars zoomed past them on the street as they made it closer to Chinatown, Sweet was still vigilant as people were running towards what they could see. A small plume of smoke billowing from the airport. Each person in the car kept silent as Woozie passed out, bloodied and exhausted.


	3. Medicine

**Medicine**

Rushing through the sparsely populated corridor, the Mountain Cloud gang parted as they saw Carl and Cesar carrying Woozie's bloodied self towards the back room as instructed by the latter. Doors were held open for the trio as Sweet waited in the scarred Greenwood. Cesar kept shouting for people to move as they had their backs turned. Beige corridors eventually became dark as they headed into the blinking lights of the disused kitchen. Smells emanated from bloodied bandages and human appendages in the large waste bins.

"Carl, we need a doctor and fast."

"I'm on it," Carl was already on his phone, "Hello? Hey Katie...yeah I know, I'm sorry...I know! Damn, she hung up."

"Well get someone man!"

Carl called his ex back, immediately getting the point. "Look Katie, we might not see eye to eye but I need you to help a friend out, he's hurt. Bad. You'll see Sweet's car in Chinatown, first street from your road." Carl put the phone in his pocket, holding a dirty rag to Woozie's wounds.

"What the hell man? Clean it first!"

"Shit, yeah." He turned the tap on only for misty water to leak, wringing it before holding it on Woozie's right shoulder.

Katie arrived quickly, ushered in by Sweet who recognised her. "Wooz is hurt Katie, can you help him?"

She looked up at Sweet, "We'll see. Remind Carl that I'm doing this for his friend, not for him."

"A'ight."

Carl heard the double doors swing open to see the two rushing in. Katie set out to work on their colleague and Cesar helped aided her. Sweet looked at Carl, shook his head and looked at her. Hushing his tone, he asked him about it.

"Man, why'd you get rid of her? Best thing for you."

Carl shot him a venomous stare, "Leave it bro. I don't wanna talk about it."

"All right fine, I was just sayin'."

"Well don't."

Woozie coughed and his face was clearly in agony as she applied disinfectant. Cesar cleaned the blood that seeped out of the wounds. "Okay, um...what's your name sir?"

Carl interrupted, "Woozie."

"I asked him, not you," She snapped back.

"Wu..." he exhaustively tried to state.

"Right Wu, the round lacerated your shoulder and I believe some shrapnel entered your chest. I can get the round as it's just almost near the surface of the tissue. The chest might be a little bit tougher to work on."

Woozie took his sunglasses off to reveal light blue irises surrounded by milky white. He winced as she carefully worked to remove the shell.

"Fucking racist bastards are gonna pay for this..." Carl muttered.

"Nah man, we can get them later, the bank job is the priority."

"They took a hit out on us Sweet!"

Cesar darted his face up as further cries of pain rang out.

"Aryans are small time, they just tryna get some cred. Ain't nothing to it if they didn't get any of us. They failed and we still the top. A minor setback."

_One week later_

Woozie was fast asleep, Cesar, Carl and Sweet sat in the restaurant the Mountain Cloud crew usually operated out of. Afternoon sunlight passed through the blinds as the three men talked.

"C'mon Carl," Cesar pried, "Tell us about Katie."

"Stop it man."

"Yeah Carl...that fine piece of China let go...by you? Yeah right, she dumped yo ass!" Cesar and Sweet laughed as Carl sighed.

"Shit...all I'm gonna say is, it wasn't workin' out."

"Sure," Cesar teased, "She realised you were a fucking train wreck esé, gangsta shit is too much for some broads. She see you kill someone?"

"Drive by an old ladies house?" Sweet intervened.

"Spark a blunt up?"

"All right, listen, she caught me in bed with Denise a'ight? That's it."

The other men made eye contact and started laughing once more.

"Ah shit! She done ended it because of Denise? I can't wait to ask her about this..." Sweet said.

"No way in hell are you askin' Denise anything about that. We had an argument, I went back to the Grove and called Denise up. She begged me to meet up with her."

"Sure, sure, and I'm the motherfucking queen of Sheba. Fool, you trippin'."

"You some sorta queen with that chain on." Cesar grinned at Carl before Sweet put his hands up and declared surrender. A knock at the door interrupted their talk as a Mountain Cloud member opened it, "Sorry sir, we're closed."

A voice could be heard replying, "No you're not slope." An uzi burst sounded as the Cloud member juddered and fell backward. About ten tatooed men stepped through.

"Aryans man!" Carl shouted, jumping over a table and pushing it in front of him. Sweet fired his handgun at the men, clipping one before diving behind the bar. The bartender himself pulled a shotgun out and killed two of them.

"Get 'em!" Shots sounded out, Cesar crouched and hit one of them in the forehead. Mountain Cloud men on duty shot from the balconies, assault rifles ripping most of the racists to shreds. A couple escaped from the restaurant only to be met by another barrage of gun fire from outside.

"Fuck!" Carl exclaimed, "I didn't even get to fire..."

Cesar chuckled as Sweet helped pull the bodies inside. Woozie walked into the open area.

"This is too serious a problem not to be addressed. Two attacks in just over a week?"

"These white boys have some agenda." Sweet carried and subsequently threw the body on to a table.

Carl put his hands behind his head, "San Fierro man, they must be after it."

Woozie rubbed his nose, "They only have about thirty men...surveillance checked in on a meeting. Unless they've managed to get more."

"You heard anything from the Da Nang Boys?"

"Not for a few months."

"Aryans might have wiped the remainders out."

"This ain't good Wu."

_**A.N. **_**A shorter chapter, this might be a bit 'filler' but I will expand on this storyline before we get to the last job. **


	4. Blueprints

**Blueprints**

"We need to take care of the Aryans, now." Carl looked away from his two companions as they drove around under the darkness that betwixt San Fierro.

Cesar chipped in, "There are two possible places we can go to suppress them, an old biker bar or 'The Coalition' building."

"Coalition building?" Carl replied, driving towards the bar.

"Yeah, it's some old money, racist pit. Some bastards in a committee, like a political party."

Sweet opened his eyes wide, "You all clued up on the shit huh?"

"You gotta be when you're part of a minority family living in the Melting Pot!"

They laughed but Sweet pulled out an AK47 from under the seat, it had a silencer attached, compliments of the Mountain Cloud members. "Man, I'm glad you got friendly with Woozie Carl, I'm gonna be teaching these ignorant pricks a lesson and they won't even know it."

Cesar pulled out a pistol with similar calibrations, handing Carl some clothes whilst he was still driving.

"Here's the bar." A large sign greeted them, it almost eclipsed the bar from the angle they were at. It read 'The Pitbull' and the men got out of the car, Sweet put the rifle in a barrel as Carl and Cesar changed into workers uniforms behind the building. The denim overalls were met with a smile from Sweet.

"Glad I ain't going in there, I'll keep the car running."

Carl and Cesar handled the barrel together, pretending it was full of beer. An overweight biker was sat at the back of the bar, his leather vest tiny over his white t-shirt.

"Hey; delivery." Carl piped up.

The man rubbed from the bottom of his nose down his greying beard, hints of blonde long past hovering amongst the bleakness. He studied the two men.

"Thought you people were meant to be athletic or whatever." Carl could see Cesar bite down on his bottom set of teeth, grinding them together.

"How many barrels is there? I thought we weren't getting them until next week?"

"Uh...five more."

"Well boy, I suggest you two fags hurry the fuck up, two per barrel? You'll be in my way for hours." He lit up a cigarette and ignored them as their scowls fixated on his pudgy face.

They put the barrel down inside the cellar, Cesar rushed to talk to Carl. "I am NOT standing for that. That fat puta needs to be put out of his small mind. Fucking pendejo."

"Cees, not now, we can get him later. We need kill the more dangerous bigots first."

Sliding the lid off, Cesar picked up the AK. "Which do you want? AK or pea shooter?"

"Gimme the AK, I'll catch them off guard whilst you hold up the bar staff."

They walked up the cellar and through the kitchen, nobody inhabited it, closed for the night. Cesar cracked a door open, the rumble of voices was louder now. "Grab the barmaid." Cesar agreed and wrapped his arm around her neck, the voices stunned and eyes focusing on him. Carl burst through the door, making others jump.

"A'ight, now we got your attention, how about some answers." Carl aimed down the sights at various members of the bar, hoping to goad some Aryan. He did. A man with tattoos from his head roamed towards the 'V' of his grey vest, hiding underneath and flowing for what seemed like forever.

"Look what we have here, a spic and a spade." Carl swallowed the remark and scanned for people laughing or grinning. Next to nothing.

"Fuck you. You're gonna tell us where 'The Coalition' building is."

"Fuck me?" He held his hands up, "Since when could you talk to any of us like we're the 'help'? You ain't allowed."

"Because we got the guns and you by the balls dickhead."

"I bet you'd like that queer."

Carl fired a shot at the Aryan's leg, he collapsed and screamed in pain. Aiming at the crowd of people once more.

"Now that I have your attention..." An older man came downstairs and Carl readied his aim, he was the owner.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Hands up you old fuck."

"Let go of my wife!"

"Do you know where the Coalition is?"

"Yes!" Please, anything!" He trembled.

"Cesar, let her go."

"You sure?" Cesar asked.

"Yeah."

A sudden moving amongst the tables resulted in the Aryan drawing a pistol only to be quietly shot with rifle rounds. He fell through one poorly made stool and ten people from the crowd followed suit, drawing weapons. Cesar and Carl took each one down in succession. Regulars fled the place and Sweet took it as his cue to turn the engine on.

Cesar popped his head over the bar but Carl had already started talking to the owner.

"It's the most northern building in Fierro, under the first toll out of Fierro, easily missed but you can get there simply enough."

"Thank you. That helps."

Cesar made his way out the back of the building walking past the overweight man from before. He yelped, not noticing Carl about to hit him in the back of the head. They both kicked him as he cried in pain, Cesar ending him.

"Okay, well we know where to go at least." Carl said.

Opening the car doors they heard the sound of police sirens and Sweet drove off, following the directions Carl gave him.

Wu Zi Mu drew sloppily on the board, the marker heading in places it had never touched.

"Right. Well, Carl, Sweet and Cesar seem to have this job planned. I am making some last minute changes to some ideas I find fruitless."

"Yes boss," a grunt replied, "Would you like anything else?"

"I could do with a coffee. Long night!"

The three stared at politicians in Didier Sachs suits walking into the building, all members of this Coalition.

"You see those cockroaches just walking in there clear as day, like they don't have a care in the world." Sweet exclaimed.

Cesar opened the trunk as they waited in the parking lot on the road opposite.

"Go up the fire escape, there could be security on the roof."

Sweet and Carl got out of the car and walked on the pavement, ignoring the gang members guarding the door. The bodyguards looked at each other and both flashed their AK's that were handled behind them.

"No trespassing...fellas." One said.

"Oh no worries, we were just wondering what type of building this is? We work for the Grove Department of San Andreas." Sweet nonchalantly said.

"The what?"

Carl took over, "The Grove Department of San Andreas, a type of justice system."

"Not interested," said the other guard. "Just fuck off. You're not welcome."

"And you aren't welcome in San Andreas or its bustling gang community."

With that, Cesar held a pistol point blank to the guards head, shooting the other before he realised what had just happened.

"Go up top." Carl and Sweet did as they were told and crept up to see five Aryans sharing a joke. Sweet aimed his AK as did Carl, the brothers ended the security and Cesar had cleared a room. Stealth was key in wiping them out. They climbed back down the fire escape to see where Cesar had opened a window, the room had two dead bodies lying in awkward positions at opposite sides of the room. Cesar had finished stabbing somebody only to see Carl and Sweet in the corner of his eye. They all moved through the rooms taking out anyone they could identify as Aryan, the numbers were thinning with each wispy gunshot. A long hallway was the centre of the parallel walls. Carl, Cesar and Sweet crept up to the double doors of an office.

"Hands up motherfuckers." Sweet said quietly.

A large leather bound chair was behind a desk and in front of three wooden chairs, each occupied by a member of the Coalition for a Free America.

"What's the meaning of this?" The head member demanded.

"We are here to shut you down you ignorant fuck." Carl venomously spat.

The head looked more than worried by the appearance of two African Americans and a Mexican American holding guns inches from their faces.

"My dear boys..."

"Don't you call us boys. We're men, and we're here to shut you racist assholes the fuck up. Aryans are no longer." Sweet pressured the trigger.

"I'm sorry, I do not mean to be rude, it must be my age. Mr...?"

"Mister mind your fucking business."

"Okay. Well I am Humphrey Atkinson, the head of the CFFA..."

"We don't care." Cesar stared as he spoke, the underlings trembling. "We took care of your friends."

"The men we have here are simple security."

"Were. And isn't thirty men more than just simple security?"

"Mr...um...Lopez? You look like a Lopez I must say." A bead of sweat trickled down his face.

Cesar became impatient and amidst protests from Sweet he rammed the rifle butt into Atkinson's face.

"Barbarian..." Cesar smacked him again.

"Cesar!" Carl's words stopped him. "Atkinson, we haven't met but my brother and I, we're part of the Grove Street Family. A gang that has kept drugs and a lot of violence out of San Andreas for some time now. We are here to stop you and anyone like you."

"Oh...the irony. You people are nothing more than thugs, hoodlums from crack addled whores..."

Atkinson ranted as the other politicians shot fast eye contact towards each other and silently agreed to run out of the room. Sweet and Cesar gunned them down as silently as they had agreed to leave.

"You're next." Carl said.

"Please don't!"

"Shut your mouth."

"All I wanted was a white America! You...you..." The three men opened fire on the old man, a bloody, smoking lump sat on the leather chair.

The Aryans were finished.

Carl lifted his arms up in protest. "Can we please just rob this bank now?"

_A.N. _**Hey everyone, thanks for reading and sorry this is late, I had a break over Christmas and New Years as we all should. Thanks again and I should put the next chapter up soon!**


	5. Money

**Money**

Carl could barely see the security van from the back of the car, Sweet stared at it intently, determining the route. Cesar ate some nachos, crumbling the carpet but it wouldn't matter when they got the money. The Gruppe Sechs van stopped opposite the men, Carl wore a black bandana on his face, Sweet wore a ski mask whilst Cesar opted for a hockey mask. They anticipated the guards moving the cases of green into the building, biding their time. They grabbed their weapons, Carl had an M16 with more than a few clips, Sweet carried a SPAS 12 shotgun and Cesar held an MP5.

"Ready boys?" Sweet asked almost innocently.

"Damn right." Carl replied.

"Good."

The trio jogged across the street and held the men up, demanding their keys, Cesar pushed both of the men into the back of their own van, locking them inside the metal box. Cries for help went unnoticed and the plan was going well so far. Carl spoke into his walkie talkie.

"Woozie, we're in, God knows how many people are inside man."

"Just head to the main floor, wave your guns and take the money, no harm, no foul, you got it? See you soon old friend."

"Sure, we got it. See you."

One security guard walked alongside a corridor, Carl grabbed him before he noticed them, telling him to stay calm. They burst on to the main floor, shocking and stunning the people going about their business. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion but the guards dropped their weapons without the need to be asked.

"Alright," Sweet said calmly, "All you motherfucker's are gonna stay cool a'ight? We are getting the money and we are leaving. No questions asked apart from this one. Where's the manager?"

The clerks looked at one another nervously, expecting to have their brains splattered across their work stations. One piped up, "He's round here." She pointed behind her to a door reading "Manager" on a small plaque.

"Thank you, now my friends here are going to do a routine sweep and then we will get down to business. I promise it will take no longer than fifteen minutes, maximum."

Carl and Cesar kicked the weapons of the crouching security guards over to Sweet's position, he placed a gloved hand on each weapon and put them in one drawer nearby. Cesar barricaded the front door and Carl took point of each person, holding them up, they all stood or knelt silently, not wanting to offend.

"I'm going to the manager, he'll be able to get us in quickly." Sweet turned as Carl nodded his approval. Cesar followed Sweet and the two disappeared.

Carl eyed each person, was all this worth it for the sake of a care free life? He tried to convince himself but his conscience kept poking his mind.

"Okay," he stated out loud, "Anybody push any panic button or anything and they will be shot dead, I don't want to do it and I know you definitely don't want me to but I will."

Sweet emerged with the bank manager and dragged him over to Carl, the manager was frail, he must have been in his seventies but his eyes were vibrant with emerald green anonymously complimenting the Grove Street members who lived for it. Sweet held him face down on the desk he put the weapons in, handing a pen and a piece of jotting paper to the old man.

"Write down the code or combination to the master safe."

The manager looked confused but eventually pulled his free hand up to the desk to write some numbers.

"Thank you sir." Sweet dragged the man and the paper over to Cesar.

"Cees, if the code is wrong, blow his face off."

"You got it man." Cesar disappeared into the back rooms once more with his new companion.

People squirmed as a banker type wet his trousers quietly, his whimpering soft and docile. Sweet pointed the shotgun at the faces of the squirming few, a warning not to move. Carl felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck, he wanted it to be done now. It was too tense, coughs and tears muddied the otherwise dead atmosphere. Cesar emerged once more, holding his weapon up to indicate that they could bring the bags round.

"Carl," Sweet whispered, "You go first, I'll keep these guys locked down."

Carl walked around the back, Cesar lifting his mask to grin at him. "Keep it on your face man! There are cameras are everywhere."

He realised something, they hadn't checked for any camera operators. "Cees, fill my bag up, we forgot the security room."

"What? But I thought you were handling that?"

"Sweet must have forgotten, shit!"

He moved calmer than he should have, walking upstairs and encountering an overweight guard on his own, just placing a phone down. Sirens soon followed. The guard grabbed his handgun only to be shot by Carl, his blood running down the television screens surrounding him. He ran downstairs, Sweet was shouting at the accountants and customers, wanting to know which person had alerted the police.

"Sweet! We left the goddamned security room man!"

"You're fucking kidding me...we need to get out of here now."

"Your bag needs filling up, get your cash, Cees got mine as I went up there."

Sweet sprinted round the back, Carl found himself pointing the M16, Cesar passed Sweet and he looked through the windows, SWAT vans and squad cars blockaded the front, and, their only way to the car.

"Caaaarl!" the brother in law yelled.

Carl held Cesar's arm, running to the side entrance where they came in, Sweet exited with his bag just as Cesar left with his own and Carl's. The people erupted in screams and cried for help as armed police charged the building, some entered from the side as the three were leaving, they fired in a trifecta of muzzle flashes, killing four SWAT members outright. They sprinted down an alley, police chased them, shots were fired but missed. The three stopped at the end, looking towards the highway on their right, they made a break for the road ahead, Carl led them, his bag was chafing, he twisted his head to see regular beat cops shooting, shouts of freeze were drowned out by the constant fire. Carl heard a thud, the strap holding the bag has snapped and he had to stop to get it. It happened in an instant but as soon as Cesar stopped, Carl stopped only to be hit in the shoulder. The pain was searing through his body, he had collapsed to the concrete and Sweet slowed to pick his brother up, snatching him up with full force. Cesar was fine, Carl didn't know whether to focus on the wound, anger at Cesar for stopping or anger at himself for the same reason.

"Down into the subway!" Sweet bellowed as he hung on to a now heavily bleeding Carl.

Cesar crouched at the top of the stairway, firing pot shots before following Sweet's orders. Men and women ran in terror at the sight of the gunmen.

"We have some time guys!" Cesar called, "I capped a few of them."

"Carl," Sweet asked at the platform, "You...you okay?"

"I don't feel great bro..." He kept entering darkness.

"C'mon Carl! We have the money, c'mon!"

"I'll catch up...I promise..."

Cesar shouted, "We gotta go!" He ran down the stairs, SWAT in pursuit.

"Carl! Let's go!"

Carl struggled to get up, kneeling with his rifle pointed.

"Honestly, I'm fine...Go on, I'll get the next one, it'll give you guys the chance to escape."

"Carl..."

"Go!" Carl fired convincing shots off, hitting the men careening towards them.

Sweet didn't want to leave and neither did Cesar. Carl piped up again.

"Take my bag...it'll slow me down, but you guys got your own families now...I can hold them off, I promise."

Cesar gave Sweet a nervous look. Sweet patted his brother's good shoulder. "I trust you bro but..."

"GO!" Sweet flinched as police shouted and smoke was deployed.

Carl's closest family jumped on the subway train, convinced and unconvinced at his ability to take on the cops in his debilitated state, nevertheless they both mouthed the word 'goodbye'. He managed to reload and watch the train depart with his partners on it, taking their masks off and sitting down. Sweet watched Carl every possible second as he held the cartridge with his teeth. It left the platform and Carl was alone.

"Stop!" came a seemingly disembodied voice.

Carl stopped around nine police officers and three SWAT members before the next train arrived twenty minutes later. Claret stained his body armour but he pulled himself up, the driver jumped out in fear and the blues quickly descended on him. Grabbing a railing, he swung himself at the door but was hit in his right arm, wincing in pain, he shot with his left side, it wasn't his aiming side. A burst of SMG rounds struck the body armour heavily, breaking several ribs. He slunk to the ground, his blood staining the already grimy tiles. Carl Johnson couldn't help but hope for the best for his family.

_**A.N. **_**First of all, thank you to my reviewers for being patient with me throughout this story. To be honest it started as little more than a filler story in between other writing projects and I'm happy to see it finished. I think the story has more style over substance but I'll let you good people be the judge of that! Thanks again everyone: IF**


End file.
